


Precious Things

by EzraTheBlue



Series: Promnis Valentine's Week 2020 [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Blood and Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Self-Harm, field medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22782502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraTheBlue/pseuds/EzraTheBlue
Summary: In a fraught situation, Ignis and Prompto face mounting odds and a huge amount of danger. When push comes to shove, however, Prompto is far more precious to Ignis than Prompto knows, though sometimes he needs a reminder.(Promnis Valentine's Week Day 5: Comfort)
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia
Series: Promnis Valentine's Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633150
Comments: 11
Kudos: 139
Collections: Promnis Valentines 2020





	Precious Things

**Author's Note:**

> This ended up being hurt/comfort. I apologize if it's a little bit more hurt than comfort!
> 
> Warning: Something occurs in this story that could be viewed as self-harm. However, it is done out of medical necessity rather than out of self-hatred.

**Precious** **Things**

The sun was sinking under the horizon, the party had been accosted by MTs for what had to be the sixth time that day, and they were all exhausted on their feet. The rain didn’t seem to want to let up, visibility was dismal, and Ignis didn't want to take one step further. However, Noctis was haunted by Gentiana’s voice in his head, pressing him onwards to find all of Ramuh’s runestones, forbidding the retinue from resting. Ignis was watching Gladio and Prompto patch themselves up from the last fight, grimacing at the calluses on his own palms and fingers. Gladio groaned aloud across the glen they’d settled in. 

“We’re running low on potions. We either need to stop and stock up, or get a lot more careful in fights.” Gladio stood, giving Prompto a smack on the shoulder that might have looked friendly but hit too hard to actually be brotherly. “That means everyone. Conserve potions, they're too expensive to waste.”

Prompto moaned, slouching and scrambling to his feet. “I’m not using them because I want to! I kind of like not bleeding out, thanks!”

“We could always take a break.” Gladio circled Noctis, eyeing him warily. “I get we’re pissed about the car and we have shit to do, but-” Noctis made a pained noise and gripped at his head. Gladio flinched, then turned to Ignis and Prompto. “Let’s just get a move on. The sooner we can finish, the sooner we can rest.”

“Let’s make an effort to avoid fights if we can,” Ignis advised, sighing as he rose. He was exhausted too, but he knew Noctis couldn’t ignore his pain. Ramuh seemed to be sending this storm, and he likely wouldn’t let himself be ignored, either. Knowing that, Ignis didn’t want to admit aloud that his exhaustion was catching up with him as well. He needed to keep himself going for the sake of the others. As Noctis checked the map and Prompto trudged back towards their chocobos, Ignis caught his shoulder. “Are you doing alright?” 

“Yeah, just tired.” Prompto yawned broadly, demonstratively. Ignis patted his shoulder, reminded briefly of just how precious his lover was. 

“We only need to endure a little more. Even Noctis’ pain won’t let him drive us too much longer.” 

Prompto smiled, eyes lidded and weary. “We can’t drive much of anywhere without the car.”

“No, I suppose not.” Ignis rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a little grin. What would he do without Prompto’s precious smile?

They rode on into the darkening night, closing in on the next runestone, but just as it came into view, lights glared down from overhead, and Ignis knew what was coming: “Imperials, above us!”

There was no avoiding them. They were falling directly in their path, and they were bottlenecked in.

The troopers landed a few seconds later, only twenty meters ahead of them, and Gladio and Noctis were already drawing. However, bad turned to worse when bubbling pools of black erupted from the earth, and Flans and Bombs emerged from the ooze, roaring and glowing with unholy light. Ignis drew his daggers and Prompto his gun, readying for just one more fight.

“Be careful, Iggy!” Prompto warned, then began to strafe the MTs. Ignis, however, dove into the fray.

The axemen and gunmen MTs would have been bad enough on their own, but with the Bombs flashing and the Flans pushing them around, Ignis was truly in the center of madness, and straining to cut his way through. Prompto tried to ward the daemons back with Starshells lighting the sky, and Gladio and Noctis swept through the chaos with a ferocity that came only from determination, but Ignis realized he was losing track of the others, losing ground, and becoming disoriented in the flashing lights.

“Noctis, we have to withdraw!” Ignis called to him, but Noctis didn’t seem to hear him as he warped between two Flans, tearing them up until he tumbled and crashed to the ground, groaning and twitching in a way that screamed that he was in stasis. As he turned to run towards Noctis to give him an Ether, he heard Prompto shout:

“Watch your back, Iggy!” Ignis spun about at the crack of a gunshot too close to his ear, only to see Prompto tumbling past him, popping up to a stand and emptying his chamber on an MT gunman until it crashed to the ground in a heap of sparks. Ignis gave Prompto a quick nod in gratitude, Prompto threw him a thumbs-up, and Ignis hurried to get Noctis back on his feet. 

Despite Ignis’ misgivings, the four of them managed to clean up the daemons and MTs after only another few minutes of fighting, but the effort left them all exhausted. Prompto flopped onto the ground, flat on his back in the soggy grass, as Ignis sank to sit on the ground and rubbed his aching head.

“Noctis,” Ignis said, too loud in his own ears, “We cannot continue. I am beyond the brink of exhaustion, and I cannot imagine anyone else is feeling better. Continuing to fight in this state will be detrimental to our well-being.”

“I know,” Noctis moaned, but he turned towards where the rune gleamed nearby. “Let me just… see if Gentiana will let me rest…” 

He touched the runestone, and there was that burst of light again. Noctis squeezed his eyes shut against the light, then about-faced. “There’ll be a cave. East of here. Fociaugh Hollow. But it has to wait.”

“Yeah,” Gladio agreed in a low rumble. “There must be a campsite or something near here.” He got up, then shuffled over to where Prompto was laying. “Get up. We can sleep in the tent or a camper.”

Prompto didn’t react immediately. Gladio nudged him with his foot. “Hey,” he growled, “come on. Up. You hurt or something? I told you to be careful.” Prompto let out a pained noise, which forced Ignis to look over. “I’m not giving you a potion if you’re just acting like a baby.”

Prompto moaned again, but made himself sit up. “I’m… I’m fine. M’fine.” He stood, slowly, carefully, and slouched a little where he stood. “I’m ready to go. Rest... Rest sounds good.”

They were hardly awake enough to ride their chocobos, with Prompto meandering near the back and seeming to forget to spur the bird onwards, but just after the midnight hour, they reached a camper. Noctis put money in the door, stripped off his soaking clothes and left them in a pile, then clambered onto the top bunk and yanked the covers over his head. Gladio had the presence of mind to dismiss his clothes to the Armiger, but he followed suit, getting on the bottom bunk.

“You two can share the sleep sofa.”

“Indeed,” Ignis replied, then glanced back to Prompto. He noticed that Prompto was paler than usual, and he approached him, a hand out. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Tired,” Prompto rasped, lowering his head and ducking Ignis’ touch. “Just… need to sleep it off… Lemme just… bathroom first...”

Ignis frowned as Prompto, hugging his wet vest to his chest, crept into the bathroom. He faintly thought to go after him and make certain he was alright, but when he didn’t hear any noise from the bathroom, he gave in to his own tiredness, changed out of his wet things into pajamas, opened the sleep sofa and crashed onto it. He wasn’t awake long enough for his worries to overcome his weariness, and fell asleep in an instant.

Ignis woke in the dark of the camper to a strange sensation like a jerk on an invisible chain on his chest, then the soft sounds of sniffling. His phone told him he had only been asleep three hours, but then he found the blankets beside him empty, undisturbed. Prompto had never come to bed. The bathroom light was on, casting a shaft of yellow light across the camper floor. 

Ignis was suddenly wide awake. 

He checked the bathroom door and found it locked, and heard another muffled snuffling sound from behind it. He scowled, focused, and took a small pocket knife from the Armiger and picked the lock without a second thought.

It was then that Ignis realized what he’d felt that had awoken him: Prompto taking one of his daggers from the Armiger. He knew because Prompto was bracing himself on the wall with one hand, his bandanna in his teeth, as he tried to use the dagger to dislodge a bullet stuck deep in his side, right under his ribs. Blood covered his hands, fresh on his fingers likely from digging into the wounds, and it had run all down his side, staining his bare leg to the knee and trickling down his calf. Ignis stifled a panicked noise, and Prompto shot him a wide-eyed, guilty, pained look like a starving animal who’d been caught trying to eat its own leg. 

“Darling, no,” Ignis whispered, and got a potion out of the Armiger. Prompto quickly shook his head.

“N-no, we don’t have en-”

“We have enough for this,” Ignis declared, and took the knife from Prompto’s hand. “We need to remove that bullet, but we need to heal it before it can bleed further.” 

He heard noise behind him, Gladio and Noctis getting woken up by the noise and the light, but Ignis couldn’t bring himself to care. Prompto whimpered, eyes flooding with tears. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t wanna get hurt, but I didn’t want you to die…”

Ignis’ memory betrayed him, and he recalled, with distant horror like an unfathomable shadow in the depths of a lake, that moment that Prompto had appeared between him and an MT gunman. Prompto had caught the bullet meant for him with his own body. 

“It’s alright,” Ignis told him, though it very much was not. “You’re going to be alright.”

“Iggy,” Noctis mumbled from somewhere behind him, “what-”

“Prompto is injured,” Ignis answered, terse but even. “There is a bullet lodged in his side.” Noctis inhaled sharply, but Ignis didn’t look away from Prompto, still trembling on his feet. “Please prepare a kettle.” Ignis glanced down to Prompto’s clothes, pooled on the bathroom floor, and saw all the blood staining them, darker than the rest of the wet fabric. “He’s lost blood.”

Gladio swore quietly, and Ignis saw the camper lights turn on out of the corner of his eye, then heard Gladio rattling around in the camper’s kitchenette. Noctis, however, approached with a hand out.

“Gimme the potion. I’ll give it to him the second the bullet’s out.”

Ignis passed Noctis the potion, and moved to Prompto’s side. Prompto cringed as Ignis turned him from the wall and braced his body against his shoulder, then tucked Prompto’s bandanna back into his mouth. “I’m going to pry the bullet out on the count of three," Ignis said for both Prompto and Noctis' benefit. Noctis edged closer, ready to crack the potion. Ignis willed himself to focus, then put the knife against Prompto’s side. “Three. Two.” He shifted the knife, the tip just touching the entry wound. Prompto whimpered, and Ignis hesitated, then dug the knife in and levered it towards him, pushing the bullet out. Prompto let out a gasp, but Noctis cracked the potion over the wound before he could wheeze in an inhale. Ignis watched the wound knit, and wrapped Prompto in his arms the moment it closed. Prompto collapsed against Ignis’ shoulder, tears streaming down from his eyes, and Ignis ushered him out of the bathroom and onto the camper bed. 

Gladio had the kettle steaming, scowling pointedly at the steam coming out of the spout. “That was not,” he muttered, “what I meant by ‘conserve.’”

“The bullet may have needed to be manually removed as it was,” Ignis murmured as he bundled Prompto into the bed. “He saved my life and nearly lost his for it, now is not the time to shame him.”

“No,” Gladio agreed in a mutter. “What he did was brave. We’ll tell him how stupid it was later.” Prompto shivered, eyes wide - he’d heard, of course, and Ignis rubbed his back as Gladio added, “I’m heating up some garula marrow broth. We could all probably use some.”

Ignis nodded gratefully, then summoned Prompto’s sleep clothes from the Armiger. Prompto was shivering, and Ignis pressed his sleep pants into his hand. “Let’s warm you up. The blood loss has likely made you cold.” 

Prompto nodded, and pulled his pants on. He whimpered when he tried to lift his arm above the healing wound, and Ignis took his sleep shirt from him and unfolded it. “I can help you with that. Noct’s magic should help the muscles knit overnight, but I can dress you if you need assistance.” 

“Thank you,” Prompto mumbled. Ignis could see fresh tears on his cheeks again, and his heart constricted.

“Oh, darling,” he whispered, and dried Prompto’s eyes with the end of his sleeve. “It’s no trouble at all, my sweet-” Prompto let a sob escape, the tears escaping faster, and he pulled his knees in to hide his eyes in them.

“M’sorry. I just, I was so scared you’d die, I didn’t even think about me.” He let out another sob. “I just - I just wanted -”

Ignis winced, and embraced Prompto again. “Yes, and you did save my life. I’m tremendously grateful, darling, and I’m proud of you for sticking it out, but next time, please, just tell me you’re hurt. I need you to stay alive, more than air, water, or sleep.” He rubbed Prompto’s back as Prompto sobbed onto his shoulder. Gladio, however, cleared his throat.

“Soup’s hot. I’m gonna leave you each a mug, and then I’m going back to bed.” 

“Yeah,” Noctis mumbled, already pouring himself a mug from the kettle. “You and Prompto should get to sleep once you’ve had some soup too.”

“I’ll try to keep things quiet,” Ignis agreed, but glanced over to Prompto. He couldn’t imagine sleeping when Prompto still looked so fragile and small beside him. He took one of the mugs from the bedside table and slid it onto Prompto’s lap. “Drink, darling. You need to get fluid back into your body.”

Prompto nodded, head limp, and tried to lift the mug to his lips. His hands were trembling. Ignis caught the bottom of the mug before he could drop it and put it to Prompto’s mouth without missing a beat. Prompto took a careful sip, his hands shaking even harder. Prompto sipped about half of it, before his hands slid off. Ignis gripped the mug fully, and Prompto shook his head and tried to pull back.

“I’m sorry, I’m so tired.”

Ignis grimaced, but he understood - the adrenaline of the pain was likely catching up with him. “Please finish it for me. I know you must be hungry, none of us have had a proper dinner.” Ignis tilted the mug towards Prompto, and helped Prompto drink the rest of the mug. Prompto didn’t complain, but he only barely cooperated. He was slumping harder against Ignis as weariness caught up with him. When the mug was empty, Ignis helped Prompto get his legs onto the bed, then wrapped an arm around him and let him drowse on his chest as he quickly drank his broth. Prompto curled tighter to Ignis, putting more and more of himself in contact with hm, obviously in need of the touch reassurance. Ignis soothingly rubbed his shoulder, hushing him softly, gently, as Prompto shivered and cuddled against him.

Ignis couldn’t help but notice the healing scar at Prompto’s waist, and found himself reminded of how very precious Prompto was.

“I could have lost you,” he sighed, turned off the light, and slumped down in the bed next to Prompto to cuddle against him again. He enveloped Prompto in embrace once more, chest to chest, toes to toes. Prompto’s skin was still icy cold, and he still trembled. Ignis wished he could be as warm as Prompto’s love made him feel, hugging him tight to his breast. “Whatever would I do without you?” 

Prompto didn’t say anything in response, but he pressed his face against Ignis’ breast and buried his nose in his sternum. Ignis ran his palm down his back a few more times, and felt Prompto begin to relax.

Ignis’ knew that what had come to pass today was merely a matter of circumstance, of chance and happenstance, and a few wrong words. Ignis knew that such thought would be cold comfort if he hadn’t happened to catch Prompto in the midst of removing a bullet from his own torso, and instead found him in the morning having quietly bled out on the bathroom floor. All he could do now was hold tight to Prompto, ground him to this life with all the love in his world-weary heart, and never let him be hurt again. “I’m here for you, my darling,” Ignis told Prompto’s sleeping form. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what…”

Prompto was clearly in need of a reminder of how very precious he was, irreplaceable and invaluable. More important than the cost of a potion, completely deserving of time and attention. Ignis would have to remind him of this the moment he had a chance to breathe again, because Prompto was more important than air and Ignis wouldn't be able to take one step without him.


End file.
